Thoughts for the day:
I can't bear commuting any more. I *just* *can't* *bear* it.
When I'm old I want to be part of one of those couples that still love each other enough to walk down the street hand in hand.
On other news, I got to see my cervix on the big screen the other day. Which was rather surreal and mildly unsettling. I was called back with a borderline smear (apparently one in ten are) for a further check, and the nurse asked if I wanted to see what they were looking at. I said I did, and she casually flipped on the remote and there it was on the telly, all pink and squidgy looking. When she poked it with a cotton bud I realised how small it is (only about three times the width of the bud), and makes you realise how much it has to stretch for a baby to come through. Ouchee, with knobs on. Trouble is this image is now branded on my brain. I mean, in some ways it's kinda nice to finally see the bits that for years various nurses have had a look at while taking smear tests. In other ways, it would have been nice to finally say hi in slightly less tense circumstances.
On a more fun note, pole dancing classes have started again. It's about a year since the last course, and I'd forgotten how much it hurts! Pole burn in very delicate places, let me tell you, is not glamourous. But it's still a good laugh and a challenge in strength and coordination. And lovely to catch up with some pole pals again. All I need to do now is find the arnica cream....